


Baby It's Cold Outside

by rowofstars



Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2017 [12]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Cunnilingus, Dream Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Maid Belle (Once Upon a Time), Mutual Pining, Power Outage, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Snowed In, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-14 04:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12999519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Belle is Gold's housekeeper. One night there's a blizzard, and it's unsafe for her to go home. For the 31 Days of Ficmas prompt #12 - candles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rufeepeach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufeepeach/gifts).



> You know exactly where this is going. ;) From a prompt given to me by the amazing rufeepeach almost exactly one year ago (I am the worst okay). I'm filling this through prompts in the 31 Days of Ficmas list. It will be multi-chapter and there will definitely be smut by the end. YOU KNOW WHAT I'M ABOUT.

All Belle could see through the window was white. 

Two weeks until Christmas and Storybrooke already had sixteen inches of snow. More had started falling in the afternoon, light wispy flakes that were easily battered about by the breeze. They didn’t seem like much of a threat at the time, but what was falling outside now seemed like something else entirely. The flakes were large and hit the windows with a heavy, wet sound, like splashes of raindrops in a storm. The wind had picked up, whipping them at a odd angles, across the garden. She could hear it howling through the back patio and shivered. 

She’d been working for Mr. Gold since March, when she’d taken over for his former housekeeper, Ms. Potts, whose arthritis was such that she just couldn’t keep up her duties anymore. At first Mr. Gold was hard to read, a bit gruff and even grumpy at times, with a sharp wit and a dry, sarcastic sort of humor. There were times she was almost afraid of him, and assumed she’d be fired within the first month. 

One Tuesday afternoon, he was in the kitchen making tea and grousing about one of his tenants. He muttered a rather snide quip, and Belle couldn’t help herself. She snickered and he gave her the strangest look right before his face broke out in a wide smile. Her heart fluttered and she knew she was blushing, but then the water for the pasta boiled over on the stove and it was a mad dash to turn the flame down and grab a rag. She felt like a fool, but he insisted on helping to clean it up, and that it was his fault for distracting her at the wrong time.

After that seemingly small moment it was like a switch had been flipped. He was less rude, more friendly, and slowly, they warmed to each other. He was frequently in the kitchen when Belle arrived in the morning, ready with a fresh cup of coffee. After a few days she didn’t even need to add her own cream and sugar, it was already done perfectly. Occasionally, he would bring his papers into the kitchen while she prepared supper, and they would chat about the goings on of their small town, where they’d like to travel, or what books they were reading.

That was how Gold found out she’d originally been a librarian. Unfortunately there were very few such opportunities in this area. Sure, she could have gone to a bigger city, but she’d lived in Boston for a bit before moving to Storybrooke, and barely gotten by on a public library salary even with two roommates. Besides, her father lived here, and she thought it would be nice to be close to him since he was getting on in years, and a few months ago was confided to the care home run by the Sisters of Mercy.

Belle found him quite interesting and funny, his sharp humor meshing well with her brand of eye rolling sarcasm. As the months went on, she found the weekends held no real interest for her beyond a few hours of reading while she was waiting for her laundry to finish. By the end of the summer she could say with great certainty, and to odd stares from her friends, that she loved working for Mr. Gold. 

And secretly, maybe she was a bit _in love_ with him too.

Belle walked down the hall to the study, and stopped in the doorway. She watched for a moment as Gold scribbled a note in the margin of some papers, his lips pursing as he did so. It was something he did when he was intent on whatever he was reading or writing. Sometimes his lips would move a little as well, like they were almost saying the words he was thinking in his head. She bit her lip to hold back a smile, and then rapped her knuckles on the molding.

“Mr. Gold?” she called out as she stepped into the room.

“Miss French.” Gold looked up and then frowned. “I thought you’d gone home?”

She smiled. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything else before I left.”

He waved and hand, and pushed to his feet, using his cane to brace himself, and came around the side of the desk. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“Alright then,” she replied, her fingers bunching the pleats of her skirt.

Gold smiled softly. Belle was the bright light in his otherwise dull existence. He’d been so uncertain when he hired her, but she had proven herself capable very quickly. Their slightly rocky start aside, which was entirely his fault for being grumpy, miserly old man too set in his ways, she slotted right into his household and his life like she was always meant to be there.

That was what terrified him.

Some time ago he’d determined that the odd feeling he got when she brushed past him, and the way his chest felt lighter when she smiled was because he was completely in love with her. It was just his luck that he would fall for someone so out of his reach, so young and smart and beautiful that there was no way she’d ever feel the same for him. He couldn’t possibly deserve her, not with the things he’d done.

“Dinner is in the oven,” she started, “the timer has about ten minutes left on it, and the mail is in the box on the side table.”

He shook his head, standing with both of his hands on the handle of his cane. “Thank you, Miss French. I’m sure -”

Suddenly, the room went dark and they both froze. Belle held her breath until a second later the backup generator kicked in, powering one of the lamps in the room.

“What the hell?” Gold made a face and crossed to the window behind his desk.

“The neighbors are out too,” she said, peeking through the curtains. “Maybe a power line iced up or someone hit a telephone pole?”

The snow seemed to be falling faster now, the flakes shrinking in size which allowed the wind to whip them about even more. After a long moment staring out the windows, Belle closed the curtains and turned around.

“I should get going,” she said. “The roads will be awful soon, and -”

Gold stepped back and tsked. “The roads were awful an hour ago, now their bloody treacherous.”

She bit her lip. “Oh, I’m sure they’re not -

“If you say they’re not _that bad_ ,” he interrupted, “I’ll have you committed.” She frowned, and he gave her a crooked smile. “I’m not making you go out in a blizzard, Miss French.”

Belle crossed her arms and shifted from one foot to the other. “You...want me to stay here then?”

His eyes went wide and he pressed his lips together. He’d been concerned for her safety that he hadn’t quite thought through the consequences, which was that he’d be spending possibly the entire evening snowed in with Belle French.

He swallowed. “If, uh, if - that’s alright? There’s plenty of food, and the generator will hold for a couple of hours. I’m sure the power won’t be out too long. Perhaps by then the snow will have let up.”

She smiled and nodded. “Alright then. Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

“It’s no matter,” he said, averting his eyes. If he gazed at her too long he might make a complete idiot of himself.

Secretly, Belle was glad he was so concerned for her safety, and she was more than happy to stay a little bit longer. The power company would probably have crews out shortly and it would be back on in an hour at most.

Gold tapped his cane on the rug. “I guess - uh, I’ll start a fire.”

“And I’ll go find some candles,” Belle said, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

She used the light from the screen to guide her down the dark hallway, returning a few minutes later with the two large candelabras from the dining room. One was set on his desk, the other on the table at the end of the leather sofa. Combined with the large candles on the mantle and the burgeoning fire, the room was soon lit with a warm, golden glow.

“The back of the house is freezing,” Belle said, rubbing her hands together.

“The generator will keep the heat going,” he said, proding the fire to urge the flames higher. “But I’m afraid this house is a drafty old thing, and I have the vents closed in some of the rooms.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“No reason to use them, I guess.” He shrugged. “You don’t need so much space when it’s just one person.”

“Oh,” she said absently, wandering over to the window to peer out at the snow. She knew he had a son from a couple of pictures on his desk, but he never talked about him and the pictures were clearly from a decade ago or more. She assumed something had happened between them that left them estranged. At least she hoped that’s what it was.

Gold glanced over his shoulder. “Not how you imagined spending your evening?”

Belle tilted her head and moved closer to the fire. “No, but aside from the lack of electricity and some modern conveniences, I can’t say I mind too much.”

He smiled at that and pushed to his feet. “I hope dinner isn’t ruined.”

She shook her head. “Not at all. It was practically done anyway and the oven’s still hot. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“The generator only runs the stove at the refrigerator, I’m afraid. We’ll need to take some candles with us.”

“A candlelit dinner?” she asked, feigning a heavy sigh and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead.

The corner of his mouth curved slightly. The prospect of an evening with Belle, even with minimal power and a blizzard outside, was enticing. He hoped the power would stay off as long as possible. “What a _terrible_ fate.”

Belle laughed lightly, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of an intimate dinner with Mr. Gold. “Truly awful indeed.”

No, it might not be how she thought her evening would be, but if the weather forced her to spend more time with Mr. Gold, then let it snow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Gold play a game after dinner, and the situation takes a (minor) turn for the worse. For the 31 Days of Ficmas prompt #16 - Mittens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES, THERE IS MORE. And the turn is really for the better as far as we're all concerned, right?? Apologies for this part being shorter, as well as some future parts. I'm writing these based on the 31 Days of Ficmas prompts so whatever fits whenever is how I'll be posting. I anticipate the final chapter on Christmas Eve or Day, not sure yet.

Belle grinned and set her last tile on the board.

“Mittens,” she said, placing the N right next to the S Gold had played three turns ago. She glanced up at him as she picked up the pen to update her tally. “That’s eighteen points, and…a _triple_ word score.” She crossed out her former point total and wrote the new one. “That’s one hundred and nine, to sixty two.”

“Well met, Miss French.” Gold smirked and shook his head. “I should have known better than to start a Scrabble game with a librarian.”

Her lips twitched as she drew her new tiles from the bag. “Is that like not starting a land war in Asia?”

He laughed at the reference and reached for his glass of wine. “Not quite as deadly, I hope,” he said, taking a long sip.

He watched her over the rim of his glass, and she couldn’t help smiling. Dinner had been lovely, with the kitchen blanketed in candlelight, and while the conversation had started out awkward, it had ended comfortable and easy. Unfortunately, the power was still out, and the snow had thickened again as it fell. The weather report on her phone showed blizzard warnings throughout the entire county, and she’d started to fear that the electricity would remain off until it stopped. 

She wasn’t sure what that meant for the rest of the evening.

Gold had suggested they retire to the library again, this time with a couple glasses of wine. He built up the fire, and Belle found a cabinet of board games. Scrabble had been the easy choice, and he only slightly regretted it now - or perhaps not at all so long as she kept giving him cheeky smiles across the table. All in all it was the most delightful time he’d had in ages, and a very silly and hopeful part of him wanted the snow to never end, to keep falling until the doors and windows were covered. If only they could exist in this perfect little evening forever.

He was eyeing up his letter tiles, trying to see if there was a stray U somewhere to go with the Q he’d drawn at the beginning and had yet to be able to use. A double letter or word score would have him back in the game in one move, if he could find it.

Belle propped her elbow on the table and put her chin in her hand. “I _think_

_The words weren’t even out of her mouth when there was a sharp pop followed by an eerie stillness. The glow from the single light in the kitchen was gone, leaving the hallway pitch dark, and the low hum of the generator had ceased._

__

__

“Well,” Gold said, sighing. “That’s bloody inconvenient.”

“Was that -” she started.

“The generator?” he finished. “Yes, I’m afraid. There’s only enough fuel for a couple of hours. It’s designed for short outages, not this - _mess_.” He sighed again and vowed to look into one of those permanent ones that connect to the gas line.

There hadn't been a need for it before now, not in all the years he'd lived in Storybrooke, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. Including an evening snowed in with his housekeeper. Truthfully, he wouldn't have it any other way. Belle was splendid company, and though he knew she wished she was in her own home and away from her employer, he was just a little bit glad at the prospect of the evening continuing.

She bit her lip. “Maybe, I should try to head home now?”

Gold pushed back from the table to stand, and then crossed to the window. He lifted aside the curtain with one finger and frowned. “I don’t think that’s very wise.”

Belle blew out a breath. “Well, that _is_ bloody inconvenient.”

In actuality, she was a little relieved. She didn't want to trek home in the middle of a storm, much less be away from just a pleasant evening with Mr. Gold. Though things seemed to be a getting a bit worse, and she hoped they wouldn't get too dire before the night was over.

He turned from the window, his lips curved in amusement. “I think we had better lay in some provisions, Miss French. Would you care for a short adventure?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "adventure" seems short lived, but is really just beginning as Belle and Gold share a dance and a moment. Rating goes up starting this chapter. For the 31 Days of Ficmas prompt #21 - holiday music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me. You all know where this is going. ;) Also I'm stupid cheesy with the title of this fic, fight me. Unbeta'd so it's riddled with typos and all my terrible mistakes.

The short adventure turned out to be trudging through the snow on the back porch to bring in more firewood.

“Some adventure,” Belle muttered as she stomped the snow off her boots just inside the french doors. She gave Gold a wry smile and shook out her hair.

Gold chuckled and leaned against the wall to kick his boots off. “Apologies for the false advertisement, but it couldn’t be helped.”

It really couldn’t given the rate at which the snow was still falling. Belle had checked the app on her phone for Con Ed and while they were aware of the outage, they had no estimate for when it would be repaired. They had to assume they would be without electricity for the remainder of the evening, and had made four trips to create a sizable stack of wood in the bin by the fireplace. Gold contemplated hauling some of it upstairs his bedroom. It had the only other working fireplace in the house, and he would need heat to sleep tonight.

It was that thought which made him realize that at this point Belle was definitely going to have to spend the night. He supposed the sofa in the library would be a passable spot to sleep, god knows he’d napped on it a fair number of times, but he always woke stiff and regretful. He felt terrible relegating her to the same fate. Frowning, he set the last two logs on the fire and rubbed his hands together. The reasonable alternative was sleeping on the sofa himself, in spite of how much he’d feel it in the morning, because the only remaining option was - 

He shook his head. The idea of Belle in his bed, and him in his bed, _at the same time_ \- was not happening. That was a fantasy that would remain in the deep recesses of his mind, only to be visited in moments of weakness and desperation. And he’d been entirely too much of both recently, giving in to his baser needs and stroking himself to lurid images of Belle writhing in his bed, or on her knees under his desk.

He felt his face flush, and he turned away from the fire, burying the tableau that was playing out in his mind just as Belle returned with an armful of blankets.

“This is all that was in the linen closet,” she said, dropping a quilt and two knit throw blankets over the back of the sofa with a soft thump. “I think it’s at least enough to build a pretty good fort.” 

He gave her a strange look and she grinned. “Don’t tell me you’ve never made a blanket fort.”

“Not in quite some time,” Gold said, taking the poker from beside the fireplace and prodding the logs. The last time he’d constructed anything out of blankets, pillows, and furniture had been when his son was still just a boy, and those halcyon days were long gone.

The flames leapt up and the wood crackled and snapped. He watched it for a moment, his mouth curving slightly. “We have such a lovely open fire. Too bad there’s no chestnuts to be had.”

Belle giggled as a delicious idea formed. “No,” she said, drawing out the ‘o’ sound. “But there are marshmallows and graham crackers in the pantry. If we’re lucky there might be some chocolate too.”

He grinned. “The perfect dessert for being snowed in.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So, what’s the best Christmas gift you ever received?” Belle asked, carefully pressing down the second half of the graham cracker on top of the golden, roasted marshmallow. It made a lovely squishing sound and her mouth watered as the heat from the gooey inside started to melt the piece of chocolate.

Gold pulled his marshmallow out of the fireplace and examined it to see if it was done enough. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, sticking the sweet back in the flames until it caught fire and he had to blow it out. “Probably something my Aunts gave me when I was a boy.”

It had been a long time since he’d gotten anything for Christmas that wasn’t a “present” to himself, which was really nothing more than buying whatever he wanted to buy anyway. He wasn’t lying exactly, but his Aunts hadn’t had much money, so the few gifts he did get were all precious to him. He knew Belle hadn’t meant to dredge up old hurts with her topic of conversation, but this time of year always made him a bit melancholy. It was never more apparent that he was alone in the world than at the holidays.

He sighed rather heavily as he broke his graham cracker in half, and Belle’s lips pressed together. “Will you tell me about them?” she asked, and he glanced sideways at her before pinching the marshmallow between the two halves and pulling it off the skewer. “Your Aunts?”

He smashed the treat together, smiling as he recalled doing a similar thing with his son. “Well, only one of them was actually my Aunt,” he said, taking a messy bite and crumbling cracker everywhere. He frowned down at his tie and waistcoat and brushed the crumbs away as he chewed. 

“Mellie was my mother’s older sister,” he explained. “But Helen was just her, uh, her _friend._ ”

Belle frowned for a second and then her eyes went wide. “Oh!” She grinned. “So they were -? And you were -?”

“Raised by two spinsters who called themselves sisters but were actually lesbians?” He stopped to stick another marshmallow on his skewer, and glanced at Belle who was grinned madly. “Yes.”

She laughed. “That sounds delightful.”

There were many parts of it that were not delightful. It was a hard enough existence for Mellie and Helen when he was dumped on their doorstep by his wayward father, but the two women loved him and cared for him as best they could. They were poor to say the least, surviving on a small pension from Mellie’s days in a textile factory, the temp work Helen did as a typist, and the knitting both of them sold from time to time. The two women were always looked at by others as being strange or suspicious, a few of the other children insisted they were witches of some form or other. He carried the shame of his father’s crimes, and the loss of his mother heavy in his heart even as a young boy, never understanding why he was cursed to such a life. 

“It was.” Gold swallowed, watching the fire lick at the marshmallow. After a long moment, he pulled it out and offered it to Belle.

“Oh, I don’t think I could eat another,” she said.

“I suppose I’ll have to then,” he said, feigning a heavy sigh. 

She shook her head, smiling, and he winked at her before popping the last of the smores in his mouth. Her face felt warm as she watched his tongue lap at the treat. It gave her entirely too many naughty ideas about what else he might do with that tongue, and she immediately turned away.

“I think we need some festive music,” Belle said, getting up to fetch her phone from the desk.

Gold groaned at the thought of the same old caroles or sappy, upbeat pop holiday tunes. “Must we?”

She gave him a look and pushed to her feet, setting the phone on the side table. “Hush, or I’ll put on the Mr. Grinch song since it seems to be your theme.”

He frowned as the first notes played, relaxing when he recognized it as an older song, something like he used to hear on Helen’s old radio. It was more about the wonders season, about winter and snow and children playing, and he smiled.

They spread out a blanket on the sofa, big enough to cover both of their laps though they were sitting at opposite ends. He might entertain the notion of snuggling with Belle under a fluffy blanket in his mind, but he was not about to impose on her in reality.

She told him about her favorite gift, a book from her grandmother. On the surface it seemed like your average historical romance novel, a bodice ripper she jested, with a princess and a handsome knight. But it was really about love making you brave. The whole idea of it was endearing and amusing at the same time. Of course her favorite gift would be a book she still kept with her, still read a couple of times a year, now dog-eared and well worn. And of course she would see the best possible message in it all because she was the best possible sort of person, and the kind who he couldn’t imagine ever giving a beast like him the time of day, much less sit here making the best of a snowstorm as if they were good friends. Or, in another life, perhaps even more.

“Do you know,” Belle said, stretching her legs out on the sofa until they almost touched Gold’s leg, “that in Iceland the traditional Christmas gift is a book?”

He glanced down at the lump made by her feet and fought the urge to rest his hands on them. “Is that so?”

“It’s called Jolabokaflod.”

Gold blinked. “Gesundheit,” he said dryly.

She daringly poked him with her toe and rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop it.” 

“I’m serious,” she continued. “It means the Christmas Book Flood. They publish more books in Iceland, per capita, than any other country, and sell most of them between September and November, all because of people buying them for the holiday. Then, on Christmas Eve, you exchange books, and spend the rest of the night in bed, reading and eating chocolate.”

“That sounds - lovely,” he said, just a touch wistful. Then he smirked at her. “It also sounds like your idea of Utopia.”

Belle laughed. “It really does.” She laid her head against the back of the couch, looking up at the candles on the mantle. Her head rolled to the side so she could look at him, watching him in profile. The light from the fire glowed against his skin, casting shadows in the angles on his face. He looked beautiful, and she took a deep breath.

“Maybe I should move to Iceland,” she said softly. “Be among my book loving people.”

He nodded slowly, but the thought of her moving away put a pang in his chest. “Would you like to?” he asked, and her head tilted in question. “Live somewhere else, I mean.”

She shrugged. “Permanently? I don’t know.” 

She didn’t think she could move right now, not with her father in the state that he was, and not with her feelings for Gold. Even if nothing were to come of them, if her love were unrequited forever, it would still hurt to leave him behind, knowing that he was alone in this big, old, castle of house.

“I’d love to travel, though,” she added, just as the music change to a light instrumental version of Jingle Bells. “But I think I’d always come back home, wherever that is.”

Gold nodded again, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I’d like that too.”

They sat in silence for a little while, until Gold had to put another log on the fire. He could hear the wind howling over the top of the chimney. Despite the cold, the snow, and the situation, it was a very nice evening with excellent company.

When he said so out loud, Belle blushed. “Thank you, I was - I was thinking the same thing.”

He smiled and then looked down, noticing a spot on his waistcoat. “Bugger,” he grumbled, scraping at it with his fingernail. “Marshmallow.”

“The hazards of smores.” She shook her head. “I suppose that will have to go to the dry cleaners this week."

“Indeed,” he muttered.

He unbuttoned the vest and slipped it off, not wanting to sit around with sticky, sugary marshmallow on his clothes. Which meant there wasn’t much point in still wearing his tie, so he undid that too and folded it before laying it on the table. He popped the top two buttons of his shirt and then his cuffs, which he rolled up to his elbows, stopping at the gold sleeve garters. When he was done, Belle was looking at him strangely. Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted slightly. She looked like she was holding on to the blanket for dear life.

“Are you alright?”

Belle blinked and shook herself. “Oh, yes, sorry, just -” _Just imagining you naked since you’re practically there right now._ “Just thinking.”

The music switch over to Baby It’s Cold Outside, the version sung by Dean Martin, and he started to smile. It was the kind of song that had him imagining a couple dancing, swaying slowly, the sexual undertones implicit in the lyrics making them anticipate what would come later. His mind wandered to dancing with Belle, her hand in his, his arm around her waist, holding her closer than he ever dared. He must have said something out loud because the next thing he knew, Belle was standing in front of him, holding out her hand.

“Would you care to dance, Mr. Gold?”

His brow furrowed and he looked from her face to her hand and back again.

She smirked. “I won’t bite.”

Gold smiled and took her hand, pushing to his feet. “I can’t promise I’ll be all that graceful,” he said, gesturing to his leg.

She waved her free hand, and shook her head. “I’ll probably step on your toes anyway.”

She moved them to the middle of the room, between the sofa and the desk, and turned. He stepped close and hesitantly placed his hand at her waist as she laid her arm on his shoulder. After a few seconds he realized she was waiting for him to lead, and he almost laughed as they finally started to move in an easy rhythm.

The words of the song made Belle feel loose all over, and called to mind the things she kept buried save for the late hours in her own apartment. Only then did she ever let herself entertain such wicked thoughts as her fingers slipped and pressed her body to release. Gold stepped back, letting go of her for a moment and lifting her hand and arm to spin her around. She smiled and laughed, and he pulled her back to him, his hand slipping down her side and sending a thrill through her. There wasn’t any hesitation this time, so she moved closer and let her arm circle his neck.

Gold’s eyes drifted down to meet Belle’s as the song faded out. They were bright blue and sparkling, and his breath caught. They stood, hands together, arms around each other and little space between them. He felt his head drawn down and he leaned into it as she licked her lips. Her fingers tightened on the back of his neck, pulling him in until -

Jingle Belle Rock blared from the phone, startling them apart. Belle brushed her hands over her dress, but before she could turn down the volume, the sound stopped altogether and the screen of her phone flashed just before it shut down.

“Well,” she said, frowning down at her phone as she tried to calm the rapid thrum of her pulse. “That was good timing.”

Gold swallowed hard and pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart pounding against his palm. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Good.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their almost-kiss, things are awkward, but a card game and some talking start to bring Belle and Gold closer together. For the 31 Days of Ficmas prompt #22 - Shiver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And blanket snuggles are go!

After the abrupt end to their dance, they retreated to opposite ends of the sofa. For a time, the silence was disturbed only by the faint whistling of the wind, until Belle finally offered him a rematch at Scrabble. He politely declined, and offered a card game instead, which she readily accepted.

He should have known she’d be good at those too.

Three rounds of gin rummy later, he had more deadwood in his hand than the entire forest around his cabin, and the tally sheet was even more unbalanced than the Scrabble game. He sighed as she laid down the three through six of hearts on the blanket that draped between them.

“Gin!” she said brightly, and smiled.

Gold dropped his cards. “It seems I am to be bested at cards as well as words tonight.”

“Sorry.” Belle bit her lip and gave him a sheepish look. “We can play something else if you like?”

He huffed. “No, it’s - I’m sorry my head’s probably not in the game.” He started gathering up the loose cards and straightening them into a neat stack. “Perhaps everything is just going your way this evening.”

She snorted and laughed. “Oh, I’d hardly say that.”

If it was, she thought, my stupid phone wouldn’t have ruined the moment. The way he’d jumped away from her when it went off and looked so relieved confused her. There had been a connection when she met his eyes, and she felt the way he leaned closer, the way his hand on her back pulled just a little. If her stupid phone hadn’t ruined the moment who knows where it might have lead. To a pile of clothes and blankets on the floor if she was truly getting her way.

Gold split the deck in half and started shuffling. He avoided looking at Belle and kept his eyes trained on the cards as they flipped. They’d been so close, and for that long moment, the way her eyes sparkled, he thought maybe - maybe there was a chance. But she’d said it was _good timing_ , and he knew that he must have read her wrong. Of course she was probably terrified he was going to make some kind of move on her like a bad pick up at a bar. He shook his head and prayed the storm would cease, the lights would come back on, and this torturous evening could be at an end.

“So, is there there’s anything special I should do for the holiday?” she asked. “Anything you want me to prepare?”

He dealt one card and then paused. “Oh, uh, no. Thank you, Miss French.” 

She nodded. “Alright then. I just thought, since it was Christmas and all.”

He continued to flip the cards between them. “There’s no need. In fact, I was going to tell you that you can take the entire week off if you like. Christmas through New Years.”

Belle’s mouth opened in surprise. “Oh, I - I, uh - oh. That’s very nice of you, Mr. Gold.”

She frowned as she picked up her cards and sorted them. Gold living alone was a given, that was something everyone seemed to know. But doing nothing for Christmas just seemed so sad. Not that she would be doing anything either, so her hope was that Gold might need something that would give her an excuse to be here instead of in her lonely apartment. She was beginning to realize that she and Mr. Gold had a lot more in common than books and card games and an extensive vocabulary.

“I’m sure you have better things to do,” he said, moving two cards from one side of his hand to another.

She bit her lip and took the upturned card, a two of spades, and slotted it next to the three of spades in her hand. “Actually, I don’t.”

Gold stopped with his hand hovering over the deck and frowned.

“My father,” she continued. “He’s - he’s in the care home. Sisters of Mercy, the one that’s next to the convent?” 

He drew a card and his frown deepened. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was that bad.”

She had explained when she started working for him that part of her reason for moving to Storybrooke was her father’s health. But she had never said much about it beyond that. He knew Maurice French only a little, but his impression was generally favorable. He paid his rent on time, and eventually he bought the small building from which he’d run his flower shop. To be frank, he hadn’t noticed that the man wasn’t actually working there anymore. There was no need for him to buy flowers.

Belle sighed and dropped her hands to her lap, folding her cards together. “Most days he barely knows who I am, or that anyone is there at all.” Her lip trembled when Gold met her eyes, and she tried to smile. “Sometimes he’s lucid, and almost like he was before, but - but the other day, he, uh, he called me by my mother’s name.”

Gold winced and set his own cards aside. “I can imagine that was a bit awkward.”

“Yeah.” Her eyebrows lifted and her lips pressed together. “Especially since my mother’s been dead for more than a decade.”

He swallowed and blinked in shock. “Oh, I - I didn’t - Miss French I -”

“Belle,” she interrupted. “Please. We’ve known each other long enough, you should call me Belle.”

The corner of his mouth curved. “Only if you call me Callum.”

“Callum,” she repeated, smiling, and he very much liked the way that sounded coming from her lips.

He reached out and touched her knee through the blanket, giving it a soft squeeze. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

Belle shook her head and put her hand over his. “No, it’s fine. _Really_.” Then she sighed. “It was a long time ago, and I’m - I’m over it. But now my father is - and I’m -” 

She blew out a breath and then bit her lip, trying to figure out what to say, or what she even really felt. It wasn’t something she had let herself examine too much since coming to Storybrooke. “He’s all I have.”

Her eyes closed and Gold turned his hand over to hold hers without thinking, and smiled softly when she left him. “It’s alright, Belle.”

She gave him a wobbly smile in return and looked down at their hands. “It just feels strange, I guess, knowing that someday, not that far in the future, both my parents will be gone. And I’ll be - I’ll be alone.”

She looked away as she said it, her vision blurring as she blinked away tears. She felt Gold’s fingers squeeze hers and then the sofa dip as he moved closer. Without hesitation, she leaned to the side and rested her head on his shoulder. The draft of cold air from the hallway made her shiver, and together they pulled the blanket higher until they were quite well cocooned. Her thumb started to rub back and forth over his, a small gesture, but quietly intimate.

Gold couldn’t decide if his heart was leaping for joy or breaking for Belle. He knew what it was like to be alone in the world, to be without family. Now perhaps he could at least count her among his very short list of friends, making them both a little less alone.

“My son lives in New York City,” he said, softly. She lifted her head for a moment and looked at him, then settled again. “We - we don’t speak often, and truthfully I’ve done some things in our relationship that I regret. But he’s all I have too.”

“What’s his name?” she asked. 

He smiled. “His name is Neal.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold and Belle cuddle up on the sofa for a little while, but then it's time to go to bed. For the 31 Days of Ficmas prompt #23 - feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all going to hate me for this but you know where it's going. Consider this less a feast and more an appetizer. ;)

Gold didn’t know how they gone from snuggling on the sofa to here, and he didn’t much care. 

The firelight danced over Belle’s skin, sparkling on the inside of her thighs where she was wet and needy. She had managed to get his shirt unbuttoned and pulled free of his trousers, leaving it to hang loose, before he slid down to kneel on the floor. They were both breathing hard, their lips red from kissing, hair mussed from wandering hands.

Her skirt was bunched up around her hips, and her blouse was laying over the arm of the couch, leaving her in a pale blue bra. Her panties matched, and he licked his lips as he took a long look at the damp spot darkening her slit. She watched him, eyes heavy and her chest rising and falling with each deep, panting breath, flushed right down to her toes.

She looked at him like he was good and worthy, her fingers reaching to push back his hair. He tugged her underwear down, letting out a groan as a string of moisture trailed after the cloth, sticky and wet and tempting. He pressed kisses from her knees up to the crease of her leg as he pulled her panties down and over her feet, tossing them over his shoulder. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered against her creamy skin, running his hands up her calves all the way to the curls above her mound. 

Gold pushed gently on her legs, and she spread them wider, shifting down until her hips were at the edge of the cushion. She begged him with his name, and tugged his hair as he chased the glistening arousal with the tip of his tongue. He barely parted her folds, letting himself sip at her until she cried out for more.

He teased around her clit and she rolled up to meet him, hips rising off the sofa with every near miss. His chin was soaked with her by the time he finally lapped his tongue over her clit. She bucked into his mouth and fisted his hair. The sounds she was making would seem painful if he didn’t have ample evidence to the contrary.

He slung her legs over his shoulders and nosed into her cunt, licking at the wet heat of her. His cock was an afterthought, a steady pulse between his legs, but negligible to the throb of her clit as he sucked it between his lips. He was determined to make her come first before he worried about himself, knowing he wouldn’t last more than a few strokes inside her.

“Callum.” She said his name, breathy and light, and he stopped to look up at her, a half a smile on his shining mouth.

“Callum,” she repeated, her brow furrowing.

He frowned, wondering if he had done something wrong.

“ _Callum._ ”

Gold startled and jerked awake, immediately reaching up to wipe at his face, confused when his hand didn’t come away sticky and wet and smelling of her. He blinked and realized he was still sitting on the sofa, half covered in a blanket, with Belle standing over him.

_But she’d been half naked just a moment ago, hadn't she?_

“Hey,” she said, giving him a soft smile. “We, uh, fell asleep.”

_Oh._

He shifted and felt a tightness in his trousers that made him stop. His dream had left him with a rather insistent erection, but thankfully the thickness of the blanket was hiding it.

“Sorry,” he said absently, still trying to reconcile reality and his dream. 

They were in the library, and the snow was still falling. He’d told her about his son, about the rift that first divided them, and how he’d done his best to mend it with mediocre results. The rest was up to Neal, he figured, though Belle urged him to reach out again, perhaps on Christmas. What could it hurt, she’d said, and truthfully, he didn’t know. The worst was his relationship with Neal would remain in a sort of limbo, but if not then maybe there was a chance for more. 

After that, he’d poured them a finger of scotch each, and she’d talked a little about her mother and her life before they moved to the states. Sometime after that, while he was going on about plans for one of his buildings near the wharf, he’d noticed that she’d fallen asleep. Loathe to wake her, he inhaled the scent of her hair, and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, the only one he was likely to ever give her, and dozed off as well.

She shrugged. “No matter. But, uh, it’s after ten and the fire’s almost burned out.”

“Right.” He ran a hand over his face and sucked in a breath before stretching his arms over his head. “I, uh, guess we’d better see about some accommodations for you then.”

She nodded and covered a yawn with her hand, as Gold eased himself up off the couch. They set some firewood in one of the canvas log carriers to take upstairs. His erection had subsided quickly, thank god, but he still stayed several steps behind Belle as they left the library. He could not, however, avoid looking at her lovely arse as they went up the steps, and he had to grit his teeth and think about Granny in her underwear to keep from embarrassing himself.

“The only other fireplace that works is in my room,” he said. “So you can have the bed.”

Belle stopped at the door to the master bedroom and turned, frowning. “But, where will you sleep?”

“Oh, I’ll head back down to the library,” he said, pushing into the room and kneeling at the fireplace. “The sofa’s fine.”

“It is not,” she protested. “You were already limping more after we brought in the firewood. A night on that couch, no matter how nice it is for sitting, and I’ll have to call Mr. Dove to help me lift you off of it.”

Gold winced as he imagined the discomfort in his back and leg come morning, and the possible humiliating scene she described. She was right, but she was also a guest, and if he was going to suffer the consequences of a terrible night’s sleep for anyone, it was Belle.

“Nonsense, I’ll be fine,” he said, waving a hand before stacking a few logs in the hearth. “Besides, there’s no other place for you to sleep. The other rooms will be freezing.”

Belle bit her lip and looked from Gold to the bed and back again. He was right, but she felt awful about kicking him out of his own bed. She knew how troublesome his leg could be, and how bad his demeanor was as a result. It was mostly her fault she was stuck here anyway since she could and should have left when the storm first started to worsen. There was only one alternative she could see, though it was not ideal.

Gold finished stuffing some wadded up newspaper around the logs and stood to get the box of matches from the table beside his bed. He struck one and held it to the paper, moving the flame around until everything had caught. He straightened again, and she made her decision. They’d slept together for over an hour on the sofa and everything had been fine, so she reasoned this was no different.

She took a steadying breath and smiled at Gold when he turned. “Or we could share the bed.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bed sharing begins, awkwardly, until Belle does the brave thing. For the 31 Days of Ficmas prompt #26 - fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this was going to be the smut chapter, and then it got long and I was running out of time and on fumes but WE'RE HERE OKAY. *cue it's happening gif from The Office*  
> I'm so sorry because this is probably the worst lead up to smut I've ever written. You all deserve better.

The statement hung in the air as alarm bells went off in Gold’s brain.

He should have said no. He should have made up any number of easy excuses like he snored too loud, or he was a blanket hog. Anything to stop the train wreck that would happen if he shared a bed with Belle French. Instead, what came out was a squeaky ‘okay.’

Belle smiled and then asked if she could use the en suite to freshen up, which of course was fine with him. In between visions of embarrassing himself and offending her, he had the presence of mind to give her a set of his pajamas to wear, and then retreated downstairs with one of the candles under the guise of needing to close up the fireplace.

The fire in the library was barely more than glowing embers, but he stirred them around anyway and then shut the grate. He’d build a fresh fire in the morning, though he hoped for some meager salvation in the form of electricity. Maybe he could just stay awake all night and lay on top of the covers, or pile up every spare pillow he had in between them like the Great Wall. Whatever it took to keep him from making an idiot of himself and making Belle uncomfortable. 

It felt like they were really friends now, friends who would spend a lovely evening together of dinner and talking and games. It had been so long since he’d had that kind of intimacy with someone, the kind where he could talk about his son and his regrets and not feel judged for any of it. She was still technically in his employ, but that could change. He might have to move up the timetable for the library renovations, and push the town council until they came around. It would mean going from seeing Belle almost every day to seeing her only in passing.

Oh, who was he kidding, if the Storybrooke library reopened and Belle became the librarian, he’d be there every day borrowing books he already owned. She’d know it too. She’d seen his collections, and practically every nook and cranny of his house and pawn shop. He might have to settle for just every other day then. Or he could stop being an idiot and tell her how he felt, but that thought just made him laugh sardonically. That would be one way to truly end things.

He pushed himself up off the floor, casting one last critical look at the fireplace to make sure it was out. A finger of scotch helped calm his nerves before he went back upstairs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Belle waited until the bedroom door closed before she changed out of her clothes.

It was bad enough being naked in Gold’s house, even for a minute or two, but knowing he was on the other side of the door would have driven her spare. Hell, sleeping in a bed with him in borrowed pajamas would do the same thing.

Why the _fuck_ had she suggested it?

Of course he’d said yes when she offered, who wouldn’t want to sleep in their own bed? He was too nice to send her to the sofa, and she was a glutton for punishment. Truthfully, she didn’t want to be away from him, nor did she want to cause him any pain. It was just one night, she told herself, a few hours and it would be over, and they could go back to - what? 

Employer and employee? Friends? Sexy older man and the young woman who lusted after him?

She snorted and rolled her eyes. That sounded like the blurb on a bad romance novel, which is pretty much what she’d gotten herself into.

Sighing, she scrubbed her face with a washcloth and some of his soap, smiling at the familiar light scent. After she rinsed her face, she gave herself a quick once over with the cloth. It wasn’t her usual evening shower, but it did help her feel fresher and cleaner.

The pajamas he’d given her were dark blue silk and the feeling of them sliding over her bare skin was almost too much. She shivered in the chilly air of the bathroom, and bit her lip. A ripple of pleasure flowed over her as the cool fabric settled against her breasts, causing her nipples to tighten and ache. She leaned over the counter for a moment to try to calm her rising heart rate. 

In and out she breathed, slow and steady, until her pulse was a little more normal. The bedroom door had opened and closed about a minute ago, and she had heard Gold moving around the room. She opened the bathroom door a crack and barely held back a gasp.

Gold was standing at the end of the bed, bare from the waist up, in a pair of black pajama bottoms. She clutched the candlestick until her knuckles were white as she watched him pull the gray cotton t-shirt over his head. The movement of his muscles, his arms and back shifting and flexing, and the way the thin silk clung to his backside, had her pressing her thighs together as another frisson of pleasure swept over her. When he started to move, she quickly stepped back and closed the door a bit more, acting as if she’d just opened it and not like she’d been gaping at him as he got dressed.

“Good?” he asked, limping around the side of the bed.

Belle nodded and exited the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind her to keep the cold air from drafting into the room. “Yeah, fine.”

She swore her voice was squeaking, and tried to keep her eyes on the bed and not look at Gold. She did not need to oogle him while he climbed into bed, or remind herself that he was wearing pajamas in the same slik that was slicking over her body and driving her slowly insane. There was a slight wetness between her thighs that made her too aware of herself and his affect on her.

Sitting on the opposite side of the bed from him, she blew out the candle and put it on the bedside table.

“Is that side okay?” she heard him ask. “I just usually -”

“It’s fine,” she answered quickly, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I - I sleep on the right.”

Gold cringed. She was obviously regretting this already. He laid back against the pillows and sighed softly. All he had to do was get a few hours sleep, then he could get up early, and hopefully make breakfast and forget this whole awkward affair happened. If they had electricity. And also perhaps if a snowplow had cleared the streets. He sighed heavily and felt his body sink into the mattress.

Belle turned and slid her legs under the covers before pulling the sheet and duvet up to her chin. The bed was lovely, not too firm or too soft, like sleeping on a fluffy cloud. She’d guessed it was pretty comfortable just from touching it while changing the sheets, but actually laying on it was another matter. Sleep might come easily if she could turn her mind off long enough and not think about her bed partner.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said, her voice a near whisper. “It - it was nice.”

“Yes.” He smiled. “It was. And you’re very welcome.”

She exhaled, trying to let her body relax, and closed her eyes. “Good night, Callum.”

“Good night - Belle.” He swallowed and shifted, unacustomed to lying on his back. It was safer than turning on his side, however, so he would just have to tough it out.

The air in the room was still fairly chilly, despite the fire just across the room. It would take a little bit before the room warmed sufficiently, and that combined with the cool sheets had Belle shivering. She squeezed the duvet in her hands and clenched her jaw, trying to keep her body still, but once she started, it was hard for her to stop unless she got warm. At least the chill took the edge off her arousal.

“Are you - okay?” Gold asked quietly.

“F-fine,” she stuttered. “Just a chill.”

He frowned up at the ceiling as he heard the faint sound of her teeth knocking together. “I’m sorry. I don’t dare make the fire any bigger unless we want to sleep in shifts to mind it, or we risk burning the house down.” 

Come to think of it, that might be a better idea than torturing himself by sleeping in the same bed as the women he was secretly in love with.

She snorted into the pillow and smiled. “That’d solve the heating problem.”

He let out a short laugh. “Either permanently, or for a _very_ short time. At which point we’d be exponentially colder, and homeless.”

“How dreadful,” she said, grinning at their rather maudlin sense of humor. “Let’s hope nothing catches fire and the world rights itself by morning.”

He grunted in answer and pulled the blanket higher.

A few minutes later, a rather sharp tremor went through her and she sighed. “I’m cold.”

“Is there -” he paused and licked his lips. “Is there anything I can do?”

Belle pressed her lips together and tried to burrow her head down into the duvet. There was, but she was _not_ going to ask him to cuddle her. She was _not_.

“Could you, um, move closer?”

_Shit._

Gold’s eyes widened. He had to have heard her wrong. Was she asking him to -

“Never mind,” she said, quickly. “It’s fine.”

Her shoulders shook, and Gold sighed. He rolled on his side and moved towards her, shifting his body until there was only a couple of inches between them. “Is this - alright?”

Belle’s breath caught. He was right behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat from his body and the dip in the bed from his weight. It made her want to let go and roll back against him.

He panicked when she didn’t say anything and started to move away again, but she reached back and touched his arm, stopping him.

Belle licked her lips and pulled her hand back. “No, it’s - this is fine.”

He settled and tried to control his breathing as his hand clenched the sheet. The desire to reach for her was so strong, like a reflex, and he almost wished she’d tell him to get back on his side of the bed. The space around them warmed after a short while, and he heard her sigh softly. Her body rolled towards him, her back coming to rest against his chest, and he craned his neck to see that her eyes were closed.

The heat of him, like a cozy fire, seeped into her bones. She felt warmed from the inside out just from the little bit of contact, her back to his chest. He was solid but soft, and she felt safer just knowing he was there. She could imagine how much better it would be if his arm was around her, if he would hold her like he meant it, like he had on the sofa downstairs.

Gold swallowed hard and forced his eyes shut. If he could stay still long enough, until she’d been asleep for long enough that he could move without disturbing her. Unfortunately, his traitorous body had other ideas. His cock was very aware of the proximity of Belle’s body to his. It twitched and started to harden, pushing at the front of his pajama bottoms. The pressure and slide of the silk was driving him mad, almost as much as feeling her pressed against him.

Belle was going insane. Her head felt like it was swimming and between her legs where the silk pajamas were bunched she was slick and hot. Her nipples pushed at the fabric and every breath rubbed them torturously. She wanted him and it was now or never. Do the brave thing, right? She supposed she could always go back to Boston if he fired her.

She shifted her legs, brushing her bottom against him, and he bit his cheek to hold back a groan. His hand came up to hold her waist, trying to keep her still, but she moved again and pressed against him fully. Her perfect round arse pushed into his groin and his cock throbbed to life. He had to extricate himself from the situation immediately, but then her hand came up, to reach for him.

“Callum,” she whispered.

Gold froze. Oh god she was awake. It was all over.

“Belle, I -”

Her hips rolled back purposefully as she tugged on his hand, pulling his arm around her. He made a noise, long and low into her hair as his hand moved up her body, stopping just under her breasts, and she grinned.

He couldn’t decide if he was in heaven or hell. “Sweetheart,” he breathed. “ _Please._ ”

He didn't even know what he was begging for.

“Callum,” she said again, giving him another firm press of her ass against his hard cock. She could lift her leg and shift just a bit and he’d be right there, almost inside her. Her whole body ached at the thought. “Do you want me?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, the long awaited moment. For the 31 Days of Ficmas prompt #30 - "cozy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh...they have teh sex. ;) I feel like this is utter garbage, but yeah. There will be a short epilogue to follow. I’m a little mad at myself that I didn’t post this yesterday, but I did finish writing it yesterday so I guess it still counts as me not missing a day on the Ficmas list.

There had been a few times in Callum Gold’s life where he’d been asked a question so completely and obviously ridiculous that he could barely formulate a proper response.

Being asked if he wanted Belle French, _by_ Belle French herself, was definitely one of those times. He licked his lips, and closed his eyes, biting back a groan as she shifted her hips again, pressing back into his throbbing erection. The words stumbled around his brain and all he managed was a shaky breath that fluttered her hair.

Belle froze. His lack of response made her fear the worst, that his body’s reaction wasn’t at all about her and that she was perhaps taking advantage. The thought made her sick.

“I’m - I’m sorry, I -” she stammered as she started to move away. Her plan was to escape to the library and pretend the entire thing had never happened, but then his arm tightened around her, holding her in place.

“Oh, Belle,” he sighed, pushing his nose in her curls. He lifted his head to speak softly in her ear. “If you can’t tell -”

“I thought -” She interrupted him and laid her arm over his, rubbing his skin. “I mean I didn’t want to _presume_.”

Gold exhaled, feeling at least a modicum of relief that his attentions weren’t entirely one sided. “Presume,” he said, smiling. “Assume. Suppose. Infer. Surmise.”

Belle giggled and bit her lip. “Sounds like someone is ready for another round of Scrabble.”

He snorted lightly and shook his head, shifting his hips and delighting in the way she gasped and clawed at his forearm. “More than ready for something.”

She shifted then, and turned over, the brevity of the moment fading to something more significant and serious. Her hand came up to his shoulder, drawing him close until their foreheads were touching, her warm breath ghosting over his lips. 

For a long moment, there was a cosy, comfortable silence between them. The he felt her move closer, trying to press her body to his, her arms going around his neck as she held him. He allowed himself to close his eyes, dipping his head and burying his face in the puddle of hair at her shoulder as he returned her embrace, his hand pressed against the small of her back. 

He had longed for her touch in the months since she had come to work for him, taking small delight in the briefest brushes of her fingers over his arm or his hand. The warmth of her body was comforting and welcome, and he tried not to think about how long it had been since he had touched another person this way.

“I want you,” she said quietly. Her nose stroked along his, and then down to the dip above his upper lip.

“Me too,” he managed, fighting against the lump in his throat that wanted to keep him mute.

She pulled back to look at him, the firelight dancing in her eyes, and then drew him in again, slowly, almost painstakingly so. Her intent was clear, but she wanted to give him time to pull away should he wish to. His mind raced as he felt her lean closer, and his tongue flicked over his lips in anticipation. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to kiss her right now, and he only hoped that he wouldn’t disappoint her, or -

She interrupted his dangerous train of thought with her lips, pressing them softly to his. His body felt paralysed at first, but then she sighed and felt himself give in as her hands move from his neck to his hair. He brought his to her waist, tentatively, bunching the silk in his fingers, fitting his palm against her curves. She was so warm, so alive, and he couldn’t believe she wanted him.

Belle gasped against his mouth and her hand tugged lightly on his hair as she returned his kiss hungrily. His tongue slipped into her mouth, gently stroking and probing until he found the places that made her whimper and scrape her nails against his scalp. She lifted her leg and hooked it over his, trying to pull him closer, and a moan rumbled through him.

“Belle,” he breathed, breaking the kiss. “Are you sure this is -?”

She grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and pulled him to her, kissing him hard. “Yes,” she answered firmly, pushing on his chest until he rolled onto his back. She followed after him, pulling the blanket with her, and moving to straddle his hips. She found his mouth again, and he let his fingers slip up under the hem of the pajama shirt to touch the skin above her waistband.

She grinned and adjusted herself so she was over the hard ridge of his cock. “Oh,” she gasped, shifting and rubbing her silk covered sex against him. His fingers tightened on her waist, pulling at the material.

Gold pushed himself up to a sitting position, and then moved until he was propped up by the headboard. Belle followed, scooting up until she was in his lap. He kissed her cheek, her jaw, and down the side of her neck, pulling at the sensitive skin with his lips and nipping at it with his teeth as she gasped and arched into him. Her hand plunged into his hair again, gripping it tightly and directing him where she wanted him to go, down down until he was stopped by the neckline of her top. Before he could ponder pulling it off her, she pulled him back up to her mouth, kissing him with wet lips and an urgent tongue.

They were both panting when they finally stopped, and he gazed up at her in awe. The fire illuminated her perfectly, glowing around the edges of her like a holy light. Her hair fell soft over her shoulders in long curls, messy from his hands, and he could not remember ever seeing anything as beautiful.

He must have said it out loud, because the smile she gave him was bright but shy.

“You are too,” she said softly, her hands coming up to cradle his face, her thumbs sweeping over his cheeks slowly. 

She’d always thought he was handsome, but now, rumpled and debauched beneath her, his hair wild from her hands and his mouth wet from her kisses, he was beautiful. He looked up at her like he couldn’t believe she existed, like she was a goddess blessing him with her presence. She’d never felt so powerful or desired, and it made her shiver.

His eyes fluttered closed as she bent to press a long, tender kiss to his forehead. He angled his head up to kiss her again, but she pulled away, just enough to be able to look him in the eyes. Her fingertips traced the edge of his jaw and then down his neck to the sliver of bare skin just above his shirt.

“I want you,” he whispered. “So much, Belle.”

The tension left his body as she smiled down at him, her teeth pressed teasingly against her bottom lip. His hands started to roam, sliding down to grip her thighs, then up again until his fingertips were just at the hem of her shirt. He looked up at her, meeting her dark gaze as he inched his fingers higher. Her legs shifted, parting just a bit more in silent invitation to keep going.

Her nipples tightened again as she let the sheet and blanket fall back, exposing them to the cooler air of the room. The taut buds pushed against the silk top, visible even in the low light.  
He reached up and brushed his right thumb across her nipple, back and forth, feeling it harden further under his touch. He kept the pressure of his finger gentle, and she squirmed above him, seeking friction for the ache between her legs.

His other hand moved to her back, holding her still as he brought his mouth to her breast, sucking at her through the silk, leaving it damp from his tongue and sticking to her skin. She arched and moaned, the sensation making her squeeze him with her thighs.

Gold pulled back and she immediately lifted her arms, helping him to lift the shirt over her head. The gasp he let out at the sight of her bare chest sent a frisson of pleasure through her. She'd always been a bit insecure about her breasts, but he seemed more than happy with what he saw. Her previous lovers hadn't spent much effort on that part of her, or on foreplay for that matter, but Gold was lingering and teasing, using his teeth and lips to drive her mad. Holding her nipple between his lips, he put his hand between her legs, and used his fingers to gently stroke her through the damp fabric.

“So wet,” he mumbled, lips brushing her nipple as he spoke. “All for me?”

Belle keened. “Yes, _god_ , yes.”

She shuddered as he ran a finger back and forth through her slit several times, slowly spreading her juices, the silk getting so wet it clung to her folds. He bit down on her nipple, not hard but enough to make her squeak in surprise, the slight pain rippling through her straight to her core. Then he massaged the tender bud with his tongue, drawing out another gasping moan. His mouth moved back to her other breast, and he nibbled that one too, and she made a low whining noise behind her closed lips, breathing hard and shutting her eyes. She pushed her hips forward, grinding against his palm, trying to get more stimulation.

Gold moaned against her skin, kissing his way up the side of her neck. He could feel how swollen she was, her pussy hot and ready to be filled, and he ached to be inside her. He pushed his fingers into the wet silk, feeling the outline of her slit, dragging them over and up the front of her mound. She cried out when he found her clit, and he stroked the little nub lightly, watching her body move, rhythmically thrusting into his hand. Warmth spread through him like fire as he rubbed her through the cloth, his other hand coming up to squeeze her breast. It was getting damp between his legs as well, his cock twitching with every movement she made and leaking into his pajamas.

He tried to remove her pants, but she was intent on staying right where she was until she came. The glide of the fabric over her sensitive skin was too good and his fingers were doing all the right things. One of her hands moved from his shoulder to tangle in his hair, the other clawed at his shirt to steady herself. He moved his thumb in a slow, circular motion, and she rolled her hips, the wet silk giving her even more friction. Her legs ached, her cunt throbbed, but the only thing she cared about was the white hot pleasure building in her core. She was so close, but she needed more, something inside her to fill the burning need, and she swore.

“What do you need?” he asked, licking at her breast with the flat of his tongue. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

She bit her lip and let her head fall back. “Oh - _fuck_ \- more, _please_ \- inside me!”

Pushing her pajamas down as far as he could, his thumb returning to her clit as a finger pushed slowly inside her. Her eyes closed again, and she fell forward, her forehead against his. He wanted to close his eyes too, to lose himself in the moment and revel in her warmth, in the way she felt in his hands. But he needed to see her face when he made her come in case he was never this lucky again.

Belle was gasping, almost uncontrollably, and riding his hand with abandon. He pushed a second finger inside her and she nearly screamed. Her body was warm all over, flushed and blushing, her pussy clenching around his fingers as he slid them in and out. He was whispering nonsense to her, telling her how good she felt, how amazing she was, and for once she believed it, felt it in her heart as her orgasm shook her body.

Gold groaned as she came around his fingers, and he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her throat as her body gave up and gushed over his hand. She grabbed at his shirt, bunching the fabric, and brought her head down to look at him, her hair falling like a veil around her face as the feverish blue of her eyes met his gaze. 

Gold was mesmerized by the way she looked, her eyes glazed, mouth hanging open, panting and whimpering as she worked herself against his hand, drawing out her pleasure. It was a sight he hoped to remember for the rest of his days, and he knew then that he was completely in love with her and utterly lost.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

She laughed breathlessly before throwing her head back with a shudder. He removed his hand and let her watch as he licked her essence from his fingers, groaning at the sweet taste. His other hand came up to her hair, pulling her down for a kiss. She moaned into his mouth tasting herself on his tongue as her hands moved down his chest, pausing at the waistband of his pajamas, and then lower, cupping him through the silk. He broke the kiss and sucked in a breath, his eyes not leaving hers as she reached in to stroke him lightly. 

Her fingers on his heated flesh were almost enough to undo him right then and there, making him feel like a fumbling teenager. He swallowed and shook his head, clearing the fog of lust long enough to remember that they needed to be practical and safe. “I - I don’t have any, um, I mean -’

She stopped him with a kiss and shook her head, smiling. “Protection?” He nodded, looking away and avoiding her eyes. “It’s alright,” she said, drawing her hand up his length. Her fingers tugged and pulled, sliding over the soft, velvety skin until his eyes found hers again. “I, um, I’m on the pill.”

He could only manage a nod, and watched as she lifted herself off his lap. She sat back on the bed, and worked her pajamas down her legs, baring herself fully to his gaze. He licked his lips, imagining what it might be like to taste her, to put his mouth on her pussy and work her into another frenzy. He wanted to make her scream like that and pull his hair, to have his face covered in her, smelling and tasting her everywhere.

“Do you need help?” she asked, shifting to straddle him again. She smirked at him and tugged his shirt over his head, his arms lifting and lowering automatically. Then pulled she at his pajamas, stopping and giving him a look until he shook himself and finally lifted his hips, helping her push them down.

He braced for some kind of reaction to his nakedness, a wince or a frown when her eyes found his twisted ankle and scarred knee. It was something he’d seen before from his ex wife, Milah, and a later an almost bigger mistake named Cora. But none of that came. His gaze drifted up her body as she knelt beside him, until he met her eyes. They were soft and dark, her lips parted as she breathed deep and steady. She licked her lips, and he swallowed as her eyelids lowered, looking very much like she wanted to devour him. 

He was certain he’d let her.

Belle reached for him, her hands running up his legs from knees to hips as she straddled him again. Then she took his cock in hand, wrapping her delicate fingers around the shaft and guiding him between her folds. She pressed him against her entrance, letting the head rest there for a moment before she eased herself down, slowly. The burning ache that made her scream to be filled only increased as she stretched to accommodate him, and she let out a sharp gasp as he finally slipped inside.

They were both breathing hard, and he gripped her thighs tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. She was so soft and wet and warm, her pussy fluttering around him, pulling at him like her body couldn’t get enough. It took every bit of his self-control left to not come right then. He looked up when he heard her exhale sharply, her hips shifting as she dropped down a little more, taking all of him. There was a hint of discomfort on her face, and his hand immediately reached up to her cheek, meeting her eyes, but she smiled and covered it with hers.

She let her eyes close and then open again, her body adjusting and the brief pain subsiding to a hot throbbing need. “Been a while,” she said, wiggling her hips.

Gold managed a quiet chuckle, not wanting to think about how it had probably been twice as long for him as her. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Me too.”

His hands moved to her hips as she kissed him as she started to move, her hands braced on his shoulders. Slowly, almost agonizingly so, she rolled her hips, letting his cock slip almost all the way out before it went back in. It wrenched a loud groan from him, and she spread her knees to take him deeper, biting her lip when he bottomed out inside her. 

“Callum,” she gasped. “Oh, _fuck_ that’s -”

He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d heard his name that way, or if he ever had, and he felt his control slipping. His hips bucked, and she cried out, and he feared he might have hurt her. She shook her head and took one of his hands in hers, raising it to her mouth to kiss his palm.

“I won’t break,” she said, grinning down at him as brought his hand to her breast. He tweaked her nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through her that made her arch her back, her body begging for more.

“Fuck me,” she pleaded. Her steady thrusting faltered for a moment as his fingers pulled and pinched.

Her words broke any semblance of will he had left. He moved against her, lifting his hips as she rocked forward, meeting her thrust for thrust, harder and harder as he lost himself in her. His eyes didn’t leave hers as their rhythm sped up, their voices melting together in a symphony of moans and gasps and unintelligible curses.

She cried out as her eyes closed, pressing her hand to his chest, while the other laced with his, gripping him tight. “Cal - um - oh fuck!”

Gold had never heard such words from her before, but he reveled in it now, loving that he could push her to the edge like this. He pulled her down to his chest and planted his feet on the bed to give him more leverage.

Belle cried out again as he thrust hard, bouncing her against him, his lower abdomen rubbing against her still sensitive clit. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, squeezing his eyes shut, and she felt her pussy tighten again. Everything was sharper this time, her breath coming in gasps as her second orgasm approached faster and more intense than the first. 

A tight ball of heat built up in his belly, ready to burst any moment. “Belle, I’m – I can’t –” he pants, vaguely aware of her voice answering him.

“ _Yes!_ ” she gasped, snapping her hips faster. “Gonna - oh!”

She clamped down hard on his cock, a strangled scream escaping from her throat as her orgasm hit like a wave slamming down on the shore. A second later, he grunted and then let out a long, low moan as he came apart inside her, pumping into her as he felt the hot gush of their fluids dripping out of her.

She kissed his forehead, his temple, his brow, and he rolled his hips, sending a few hard jolts through her and dragging out her pleasure until she was quivering in his arms. She flopped against him, panting and sweating.

For a time, the crack of the fire and their heavy breathing were the only sounds, and he was content to leave it as it was and hope that maybe in the morning she wouldn’t have any regrets.

“That was -” she started, then paused to swallow. She desperately needed a drink of water.

“Yeah,” he breathed, sighing as she stretched and rolled to the side.

His cock slipped out of her and he hissed as the cooler room air hit his hypersensitive skin. He bent and reached for the edge of the blanket, pulling it up over them. She laid her head on his chest, her arm wrapped around him and her leg over his, trying to be as close as possible. Her lips pressed together, trying to hold in the emotions that were too close to the surface. She told herself it was too soon. Just because she had fallen in love with him, didn’t mean he felt the same. This was just sex and -

“I love you,” Gold blurted. His body tensed and he closed his eyes, cursing himself as he waited for the inevitable disappointment. She’d probably run now, happily venture out into the storm to get away from his unreciprocated feelings. But there was no stopping now as the words tumbled out. 

 

Belle’s breath caught and her eyes went wide. She lifted her head to see his face as he spoke, but his eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling.

 

“I miss you when you’re not here,” he continued. “Everyday I think about asking you to stay for dinner, or to out go to dinner. I wake up in the morning thinking of you, wishing you were here.” He paused again, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t see the horror on her face. “I - I know you don’t -”

“I love you too.”

He blinked and turned to look at her. “Wh-wha -? You - you do?”

She nodded and bit her lip, her hand coming up to trace the side of his face and down along his jaw with her fingertips. “I - I think I have for a long time. So long that I don’t even know when it happened.”

Her words made him feel light, made everything that had happened this evening seem even more like a dream. Except she was here, she was in his bed and his arms, and she loved him. He grinned and reached up, sliding his fingers in her hair and pulling her down for a kiss. 

“Guess it’s a good thing it snowed,” she said, later after they’d taken some time to clean up and find fresh pajamas.

Gold tossed another log on the fire and then climbed into bed, snuggling up behind her. His arm wrapped around her and his nose breathed in the scent of her hair. “Indeed.” Then he smiled. “I could have done without getting my arse kicked at Scrabble though.”

Belle snorted and swatted at his arm. “Twice.” 

He grumbled and kissed her shoulder. “And at gin rummy.”

She laughed softly and wiggled down under the covers. The motion had her rubbing her backside against his groin again, and she bit her lip when she felt him stirring. She wasn’t sure her body was ready for more, but there was plenty of other things they could do. 

“Admit it,” she teased, “it was all part of your plan to get me to stay.”

“Well, you couldn’t go home,” he said, smirking and pressing his hips forward. “It’s cold outside.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One story ends another always begins. For the 31 Days of Ficmas prompt #31 - "new beginnings."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stupid happy ending. Thank you all for your comments and love along the way, and a special thank you to rufeepeach for the original prompt. I hope it met all your expectations and I’m sorry it took me a whole year to fulfill it.

Snow had started falling lightly.

Wispy flakes blew about in the swirling breeze, sparkling in the fading light of dusk, as Gold looked out the window. Before long the snow would be thick and heavy on the ground. The weather report was calling for as many as eight inches by morning. It was New Year’s Eve, and with the wind the temperatures were well below freezing, which did not bode well for the rest of the winter.

Thankfully, he’d learned his lesson after the last time the house had lost power for an extended period of time. Over the summer he had an updated generator installed that ran off natural gas. It could run everything in the house indefinitely, no more lost heat or spoiled food or trudging to the back patio for firewood. The house was still a bit drafty, but that couldn’t be entirely helped. It was old and showing it, just as he was. 

He raised his glass and sipped, the scotch sliding down his throat and warming him from the inside. His eyes scanned the garden, over the tracks left by animals wandering through to the now dormant rose bushes. It always seemed so sullen in the winter, which also seemed to reflect his mood, but at least he would stay warm and cozy through it all.

The fire snapped and cracked behind him, and he turned, just as Belle walking into the room.

“It’s started snowing again,” he said, the corner of his mouth curving slightly. He watched her over the rim of his glass and took another long drink.

She smiled and crossed the room, taking the glass from his outstretched hand. The ring on her left hand clinked against the crystal, and she tossed back the last of the scotch, letting out a contented sound as she swallowed.

“Of course it is,” she sighed, setting the glass down on the window sill. Her hand smoothed over the lapel of his suit jacket, and then she ran the tip of her index finger down the dark crimson tie he was wearing to the waistband of his trousers and the buckle of his belt.

Gold looked her up and down, taking in the little black thing she was wearing, smirking when he saw the lacy tops of her stockings peeking out under the hem. He licked his lips and met her eyes. “I suppose this means we’re not going to dinner?”

Belle bit her lip as she ran a finger under the thin strap on her shoulder, letting it fall to the side. “Don’t you think it’d be too dangerous?” she asked, tilting her head.

Her hair fell over her shoulder in fat, loose curls, and her neck stretched and arched. His eyes drifted down to her chest where the neckline of her dress fell even lower as she pushed the other strap off. Her creamy white skin shined in the firelight, begging for his mouth, and he swallowed hard.

“Terribly dangerous,” he said, his voice low and strained. “We’re practically snowed in as it is.”

She gave him a gentle shove, and he dropped onto the sofa as her dress hit the floor, revealing the lacy red thing she wore underneath. Her knees fell on either side of him as she straddled his lap and wiggled her way up until she was pressed against him.

Her lips hovered over his and she grinned. “Might take all winter to dig ourselves out.”

Gold smiled up at her. “Oh, I hope so.”


End file.
